just the fact that my data is accessible to anyone is upsetting enough. I take a little comfort in believing my data is like water molecules in the ocean of everyone else’s data…

31 more murders on that fat fucking pedophiles head

I should really learn how to be a day trader so I can get rich off of all this stock market manipulation…

more prisoners == more slave labor

someone’s gotta pick the crops…

eww

Psychological warfare. Trump’s an easy mark. We need more of it…

Ha! I came to post this! I’ve LMAO’d at every comedian I’ve seen on that channel!

I’m confused… shouldn’t this be happening in one of those liberal nanny states where big government is supposed to be all up in your business?

Oh, right… those people need to tell you how to raise YOUR kids, but don’t you dare tell them how to raise theirs…

we had friends who had an African Grey that mimicked him perfectly every time she heard the modem sound…

actually now that I think back it was the water pump that regularly went out at 45k, and it was run by the timing belt. The noise coming from the water pump is what usually alerted me and I was able to replace it and the belt at the same time, which spared me from ever losing the motor. I drove that thing til it had over 160k on it, which was a lot for one of those…

I had an '82 Ford Escort. Those things were notorious for lunching the motor if the timing belt ever broke (which they did every 45,000 miles like clockwork) while you were traveling down the road. The valves would stop in whatever position they were in at that instant, and then the momentum of the car would keep the pistons moving up and down, bashing the piston tops in to whichever valves were unlucky enough to still be open, ruining pretty-much everything. At the same time I owned that car, my best friend owned an '82 Chevy Cavalier. We were constantly one-upping each other over who owned the biggest turd…

Back in about '89-'90 I was the assistant manager at a fast oil change place, and we had a regular customer with a maroon '76 Aspen with a bullet-proof slant-six who got his oil changed with us regularly. I could hear him coming. I’d know it was him without even looking because of the distinctive TAP-TAP-TAP -TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP. We’d pull him in and he’d tell us to just change the oil and filter and don’t bother checking all that other stuff, so that’s what we’d do. We’d pull the plug and if more than a half a quart drained out we’d be surprised. After a filter swap, we’d fill it back up and restart it and it would go TAP-TAP-TAP-TAP-tap-tap-tap-ta-ta-ta-t-t-t-t-t-t-t- etc and he’d smile and pay and be on his way. Of course, we’d see him again in about 3 or 4 months, same thing, rinse and repeat. The tapping was his signal to get it changed. Fast forward to '97, after working as a manager at other locations I came back to that same station as the manager there and I’ll be damned if that same guy in that same '76 Aspen didn’t pull in for the same service with that same oil-leaking loud-ass tapping slant-six, still hanging in there…

and slip in his own piss puddle on the way out…

She’s Generation Jones. So am I (b. 1963)

Damn, they even have her picture on the page 😆

Generation Jones is noted for coming of age after a huge swath of their older siblings in the earlier portion of the Baby Boomer population; thus, many note that there was a paucity of resources and privileges available to them that were seemingly abundant to older Boomers. Therefore, there is a certain level of bitterness and “jonesing” for the level of doting and affluence granted to older Boomers but denied to them

“trusted bank”

lol